


I Can't Quit You Babe

by vernie_klein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, trigger warning: attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in 10.17, Sam comes home to find a note... And no brother.</p>
<p>Trigger Warning for attempted Suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Quit You Babe

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to state that this was written _before_ The Werther Project aired. I did not know at the time that I wrote it that the episode would deal with suicide. If this triggers you, I would say, that even though I write happy endings, it is dark for a while. And… If you or someone you know needs help, please call the Suicide Prevention Hotline in the US and Canada at 1.800.273.8255 In the UK, +44 (0) 8457 90 90 90 In Australia it’s 13 11 14 In Berlin you can reach someone at 030-44 01 06 07 
> 
> We all have our Demons… Some more than others. I promise you that no one knows that more than me.

Sammy~

Hey. I hope that this letter finds you well. Actually, fuck that. This letter is not about making anyone feel good, it’s about bein’ honest. Something that… Honestly, Sam… I don’t know if I’ve ever been with you. Not fully honest at least. Don’t want you thinkin’ your whole life was one big lie, now do we?

Man, if this letter sucks, know that it’s cause I’m no good at this feelings shit, you know? I know I said ‘no chickflick’ moments every day of your life since you were a teenager, Sammy… But I think me being here, in this position, warrants the skirt and heels, man. 

There are tons of things I regret in my life. Things I wish I could go back and change. Things I regret, but know that circumstances made the situation turn out for the best. I know that I’ve always told you to man up to your actions. That you should never regret anything as it leads you down a dark road. I mean it, Sam. In your time of living, don’t regret a thing you’ve done. It eats you up inside. Believe me, I know. 

I regret ever being a diligent soldier. Following Dad so blindly that I couldn’t- wouldn’t see the world around me. I regret every fight, every harsh word. Every cruel act I ever did to you. The lies, the mistrust. I regret not trying hard enough, not being fast enough or smart enough. Not saving more people. I regret not giving you more…. More love, more food, a stable home. I regret letting you walk out that door all those years ago and not chasing you down, not _begging_ you to take me with. I regret the later fight that caused me to not call you for two long years. 

I regret pulling you into this life again. Taking you away from your two absolute loves: school and Jess. I regret not being there when you needed me. For not listening, for blowing you off when you needed a friend… A shoulder to cry on. I should have been there, Sam! Instead, I pushed you away and you left me! You left me alone, Sam! After everything I gave up for you! You became selfish, You left me alone. But, dammit. I understand why, Sammy, I do. And I regret that I got mad at you when you weren’t here to defend yourself. I regret not believing in you… In pushing you further. In letting you die in the first place… In being selfish myself after the Trials. I regret so much Sam. I have failed you in so many ways.

There is one thing I don’t regret, Sammy. You. I cherish every moment. The first time I held you on the day you were born. I never wanted a little brother until I saw you. I told Mom that you were mine. And you were. When Dad handed you to me and told me to get you out of the house, to protect you… It was my job before the fire, it became my mission after. You were mine, Sammy. Mine to raise, mine to discipline, mine to love. I use to have to crawl in your bed at night to keep you asleep. You cried if I didn’t hold you. I saw you take your first steps. Your first word was my name… Dude, I rocked! I even wiped your butt. I held you when you had nightmares and soothed you when you were sick. I could believe the day you graduated. I was so happy. I looked at you in awe and thought ‘I did that’. I even turned to the little old lady sitting next to me and said, ‘That’s _my_ boy. Mine.’ You made me so proud. You did what I couldn’t do. You graduated and got out. Even if I didn’t seem happy, I really was. You were going to get your apple pie life. 

I don’t regret coming back to get you. I needed you, Sam. I know.. it’s selfish, but I would do it over in a heartbeat. I won’t give up. I would sell my soul a million times if it meant keeping you alive. I would torture, kill… I would BURN THE WORLD if anything happened to you. You are my rock, and if I have to spend ETERNITY in Hell for you to breath air, so help me GOD, Sammy. I will. 

I love you, baby boy. More than I should, more thans legal. I know it’s sick, it’s twisted, I’m messed up in the head. I think it started the summer after you turned 16. You got tall that summer. Long and lean. You lost all that baby fat and your muscles started to catch up to your frame. I couldn’t stop staring, Sam. That’s the summer I told you we couldn’t share a bed anymore. I didn’t want you knowing that every time you shifted in the bed, your big brother got a chubby for you. It was awkward enough… I didn’t want to mess you up. It wasn’t okay to lust after my baby brother. It still isn’t okay, but I still do. I tried to drown it out, but the guys hair was never long enough, their eyes never hazel enough… They were never tall enough or knew me well enough. You are a needed presence at my shoulder, by my side, in my bed. Send me to Hell, baby boy… But I want you in my bed one time before I die. Please say yes? I’ll always love you… Mine… My baby boy…

Remember… I can’t quit you baby.

~Dean

 

The pages of paper fell from Sam’s hand. He gasped and stood from his chair. The sound of wood hitting wood rang through the Bunker. Sam paid it no heed as he tore from the library and took off down the hall. His stocking feet slid as Sam ran faster and faster toward his brothers room. 

 

Sam rounded the corner and smacked into Dean’s door. He attempted to turn the knob, only to find the door securely locked. Sam pounded both fists against the unforgiving wood. “Dean! Open the FUCKING door. Don’t think I won’t break this _fucker_ the _fuck_ down!” Sam pounded harder, his knuckles starting to split and bleed.

“Serious as a fucking heart attack, Dean… I will break this _mother fucker_ down.” Sam knew he cussed a lot when he was mad, especially at Dean. He began to kick at the door as well. Alternating punches and kicks, Sam heard the wood creak and crack.

“You fucker! Don’t for a second think I don’t know what you are doing! Give me a sign. Something, anything. Don’t make me call Cas! He’s got his mojo back and I will _make_ him bring you back just to fuckin’ smite you. Fuck you, Dean!”

Sam leaned on the door. He took a few calming breaths and winced at the pain in his knuckles. “You can’t leave me, Dean… You don’t get to dictate my good-bye.”

Sam pulled the gun from the back waistband of his jeans. He aimed his well cared for Taurus at the door knob and closed his eyes. Sam steeled himself, took one deep breath, held it and pulled the trigger. The sound of metal and wood splintering rang throughout the narrow hallway. Sam blinked and shook out the ringing in his ears. He toed the door open. 

Dean was kneeling on the floor, his back to the door. He was dressed in the new suit Sam had picked up for him just last week. Dean had his right sleeve rolled up to the elbow, the Mark of Cain, or, where the Mark _should_ be, dripped blood on to the stone floor. 

Dean held his prized Colt 1911 loosely in his hand, the barrel resting on the skin just below his right ear. Sam wondered why Dean held the gun there. Probably not to mar his beautiful face. 

Sam felt time stand still. He squeezed his eyes shut hoping that when they opened he would just see Dean laying in bed, the latest edition of Busty Asian Beauties propped on his chest. He would be rocking out to Zep on his iPod, the bulky headphones resting on his ears. 

Instead, when Sam opened his eyes, Dean’s finger had moved to the trigger. Sam tore through the doorway. He grabbed at the gun and wrenched it from Dean’s grasp. A single shot rang through the room. Sam felt a pinch followed by the warm blossom of blood drip down the curve of his bicep. He flung the handgun across the room and followed with his own.

Sam pushed Dean to the floor. He pinned his brother by the hips and chanced a glance into his eyes. Brilliant green eyes stared back at him and Sam visibly smiled. Dean’s eyes were glazed over. It was obvious he wasn’t all with it. Sam ran his hand down Dean’s forearm, wiping away some of the blood. He winced as his shoulder joint flexed around the bullet hole. Sam reached around his arm gingerly and prodded the tender flesh. He didn’t find an exit hole.

“Fuck. That’s gunna be a bitch to dig out. Hope you’re up to it, brother.” Sam laughed shakingly. He ran his bloody hand through his hair and looked back down at his brother’s arm. The Mark had apparently been excised from Dean’s flesh. There was a crater where the curse had once lain.

“We need to get that bandaged up, Dean.” Sam worried his bottom lip and sighed. “We should get up and do that.”

Sam gingerly pulled himself off of Dean. He stood and attempted to flex his shoulder again. A sharp pain stopped him mid movement. Sam pointedly looked down at Dean and took notice of his brother’s behavior. Dean’s chest steadily moved up and down He blinked periodically. His fingers on the left hand twitched in the rhythm of what Sam assumed to be AC/DC. Dean was in there… Somewhere.

Sam quickly left the room and gathered the necessary supplies to bandage his brother’s arm. At the last second, he grabbed the suture kit and a new bottle of Dewars. He figured if he couldn’t get Dean cognisant, he would need to do surgery on himself.

Sam stepped back into his brother’s space. He lovingly set Dean up, leaning him across the bed He washed and sanitised Dean’s wound, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. Dean didn’t as much as flinch as the whisky was splashed on his skin.

Sam tied off the bandage and patted down Dean’s hair. He had been muttering platitudes the entire time he cared for him. Sam fixed the knot in Dean’s tie and smoothed down the front of his brother’s suit. He unrolled Dean’s sleeve and rebuttoned the cuff. Sam planted a chaste kiss on Dean’s brow and smiled as the wrinkles softened. Sam tilted his head and bit his bottom lip. Sam kneeled on the floor and winced as the hard floor dug into his bones. He ran his hands down his brother’s arms and leaned in toward Dean’s right ear. 

“Dean… There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you. You told me that once.” Sam whispered. “I mean it. I can’t go on without you… This isn’t good-bye. No way, no how.”

Dean stirred under the constant touch of his brother. Sam gasped as Dean’s eyes became clearer. “Sammy?” Dean groaned.

Sam maneuvered Dean into his lap. He sat back, hard, onto the floor and cradled Dean’s face in his hands. “Dean? Brother…”

“Sammy…” Dean whispered and wrapped his arms around Sam. 

“I got you, Dean. I got you. Love you, De.” Sam kissed his brother gently on the lips. “Love you so much. Don’t leave me. I can’t go on without you.”

Dean returned the kisses, his petal soft lips nipping at Sam. Sam smiled and pulled his brother tighter. “We can get through this, yeah?”

Dean nodded and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam placed a kiss on Dean’s temple. “You and me against the world. Cause you know what, Dean? I can’t quit you either.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a Led Zeppelin song, written in 1969. "I Can't Quit You Baby."


End file.
